A Spot in her Heart
by To bE mY HEaRt
Summary: Bley. She was still her, but also, she was John now and that's who she had to be. She thought it would protect her. She thought she would be safe for the first time in her life. She WANTED to be John-until she met Spot Conlon. Suddenly she wanted things she may never get. She dreamed of identity, Loyalty, Trust, of Spot Conlon having a place in her heart. Not all dreams come true.
1. Spot Conlon

**A/N—Hiya! This is my first story. I figured that this would be a nice place to start. Tell me what you think of all this. I would like to know, honestly. I don't know if I should keep writing it or not. It's all your choice! XD Luvs ya**

Chapter 1

My father disappeared. As in one day he was there and the next, he and all his things were gone. If I wasn't the only one who was there, it would have not been such a toll on me. But, as soon as I realized father was gone, I cried a bit, then, took action.

In the attic, I found some of John's old clothes. After my older brother died, father didn't throw away one item that used to be his. So, as a benefit to me, he had some clothes that fit me. Loosely, but that would be fine enough for me. I did my best to remember how mother taught me to French braid my hair so it looks short and barely has any tail, but my hair had gotten too long for that. No matter how tightly I made the braid, the tail still swept well past the length of my shoulders. Not good enough. Stomping down the stairs in the most unladylike fashion, I scrambled to find a pair of scissors. The pair was old and slightly rusted but it would do.

As I watched in the mirror as the bundles of my golden brown hair fell to the tiled bathroom floor, I planned. I could find plenty of money in the house. I had been saving all the money I took from father's wallet and I was almost positive it would buy me a train ticket somewhere but going somewhere would not solve my problems. That's when I made a heart-breaking decision, I would run. Live on the streets. There was nothing here that mattered enough to make me want to stay. Too many memories of those women father brought in at late hours of the night; the memories of mother and John.

Satisfied with the shorter length and the perfect masculine look it gave me when braided and tucked under my hat, I searched the house. I did not find many useful objects. Money though. Lots of money. In father's forgotten trouser pockets, a wallet wedged between the two cushions of a chair, in closets. Father forgets where he puts things easily. This money would most likely get me a decent meal for at least 5 weeks. I also took some of the jewelry in the box I kept under my bed, in case there ever was a time when I needed to sell anything.

I bundled everything in one of father's old work bags and pressed down my chest with some cloth we had in the medical cabinet. Then, just as if I belonged, I clomped out of the house, deciding not to look back, just in case my emotions got the better of me and I started to cry. But I didn't. It was 5:00 in the morning and I would make it alone. I could do this!

Spot POV

"Ha. Indeed my friend. No one knows poker then you'se do." My buddy punched my arm and laughed off drunkly.

As soon as his fading form disappeared behind a corner, I ducked into an alleyway and counted my winnings. Not as much as last week but enough. "Brooklyn will be yours someday Spot." I murmur to myself when suddenly I get crashed into by a blur of brown or black. I couldn't tell since the darkness was so overwhelming.

"Hey," I said, "watch where you're going." I grumble and a hand slaps over my mouth. When I see the person who did it I gasp into the hand. It was a newsie. I was sure of that. But the eyes were different. The eyes were…

"Hey! I think he went over here!" I hear two all too familiar voices call out from the street. The Delancy brothers. Those bastards were beating up newsies at all hours of the night. In _my_ territory too. They clunked past and I hear the boy let out a loud sigh.

"Hey, kid, you's doin all right? Those guys messin wit you?" the boy nodded silently and turned to go. "Hey, wait, kid, you's gots a place to stay tonight?" the boy stops and shakes his head no without looking back. "Kid, you's wanna stays wit my newsies a while?" I ask and the boy doesn't move "you can sell papes wit us, you know." The boy turns. Sadness filled his eyes. His strangely attractive big brown eyes. I pushed that to the side of my mind.

"You don't need to do that. I-" he laughs sadly "I mean, I barely know you and all."

"It's Brooklyn. Run by your very own" I boy dramatically "Spot Conlon, at your service."

The boy looks at me solemnly. "I won't know what to do. I'm warning you." I laugh.

"You's don't need to worry. I's gets dis all figured out. You ain't sellin odda papes around here is you's?" He shakes his head no again. "Well, come on then. Dere's no room in da bunk room left at the moment. You's gonna have ta bunk wit me." For a moment, the boy looked completely and utterly shocked. Then with a composing smile he nodded and held out his hand.

"I think we have a deal Mister Spot Conlon." He said. I spat on my hand and grabbed his tightly. His small hand twitched and then attempted to return the gesture of welcome with a limp shake.

"So kid, whats you's name? Where you's from? How old is you's?"

The boy hesitated. "I'm John." He answers. "I'm from Brooklyn. You just probably haven't seen me. I used to spend most of my time indoors. And I'm 18." He looks at me strangely. "What about you? Name, homeland, age. The classic procedure."

I chuckle at this. "I'm Spot Colon, from Ireland, lived there for two years, and I am 19. I'se been runnin Brooklyn for a while now."

"Well, Spot can't be your real name. Can it? It's not even Irish."

My face drops. "It's a perfectly fine name. Enough chatter. Hurry up." The boy does a weird sort of skip/ run thing to catch up. We walk in silence for a good five minutes and finally find ourselves in front of the bunk house. The door is thrown open once we reach the top step and Gem steps out of the door with a concerned look on his face.

"Where've you been spot? We'se been lookin everywhere for you's." His eyes fall on John "What've we gots here Spotty? Hm? Another street rat you's picked up off the side walk?" He laughs cruelly and lets us pass. I go to walk down the hallway and I hear Gem's yelp of pain. I turn but I see nothing but a casual looking John and a glaring Gem grasping his toes.

"Whats wrong wit him?" I ask. John just shrugs.


	2. A Game

**Hello all you people! I hope you like this new chapter; my computer died so I had to retype all of the chapter so I could get it up for the two people who actually *cough cough* express their emotions by favorite-ing/ adding it to story alert and leaving comments… *wink wink nudge nudge* This is indeed my first story for a fantastic movie filled with hot singing and dancing guys! XD If you want to know a little about me, I am a 13 year old girl who spends her free time writing because I have no time for anything else cuz im always writing. My name is Isabelle or some know me as Rose…. (that's a really long story). Anyhoo, I hope you enjoy this and I love the names. What about you? Please review… after you read it… err… I think they say read and review…? tell me if im wrong and also while your at it write a little blurb about what you think or I'll be forced to think your all robots who have no emotions or preferences…e.e LUVS YOU!**

**(P.S. Thank you "Hi" for being my first reviewer. I LOVE YOU! and Thank you ManhattanNewsie94for being my first subscriber! (Even though I am more of a Brooklyn gal myself))**

(Spot POV)

When John got to the atrium of the lodging house, the Boss stopped him. He was a tall man, at least two heads taller than me, and he was bald. Only looked about forty but his head was baby-butt smooth (Only as an expression. I have never touched a baby's butt and I don't plan to any time soon) without a hair on it. He didn't shave either.

"Hey. _You!_ No pay, no stay." He grumbled. He smelled like dirty socks so I suspect he finally cleaned out the laundry. Sure enough, a boy around ten years old named Spanks, ran by in his underwear clutching a brown hat that belonged to one of the older boys who came barreling past, also in his underwear. Jem behind us chuckled and made his way to the room where the other two came from. John grumbled a bit from next to me and fished around in his pocket.

"How much?"

"Two cents. For now. Depends on how long you're staying." John shrugged and pulled out two worn old pennies and slapped them on the counter. My mind wandered and I kept thinking about how John looked. I really couldn't help it.

He wore a pair of brown pants with a yellowing shirt messily tucked in as if done with haste. He had brown shoes that were so old; I haven't even seen a Newsie with shoes like that. Over his shoulder hung a heavy looking bag. The thing that struck me as strange was his hat. It was _blue_. Most likely the strangest thing I've seen on a Newsie- and I've seen a _lot_ of strange things. Poking out form under the hat, he had a few strands of blonde hair framing his face. The face was what kindled my curiosity about him. It was the kind of face that gave you that weird tingly feeling that you get in an awkward or embarrassing situation. Like meeting a really pretty girl, perhaps. It looked fragile and (It feels weird to say but) beautiful despite the bruises and the long scratch that ran from his cheekbone to his nose. The eyes were brown and almost golden if you look quick. They were _hypnotizing_.

"Spotty!" I peek in the doorway and Dart beckons to me. "Yous playin'?" He giggles and hiccups and I remove the bottle from his clenched hand.

"No thanks. I'se thinks I'm good. And I think you'd be better if you'se didn't drown yourself with this stuff." Dart pouts and he gets a few laughs. "This is John by the way." A chorus of _'Hi John'_s and _'whadaya lookin at' _s followed the announcement and I take Johns elbow and drag him up the stairs.

First I show him the other boys' bunkroom and he scrunches up his nose at the mess.

"Does anyone ever clean this place?" He asks and I just laugh. This kid really cracked me up. I led him to the bathroom, which surprisingly was more or less odorless. He makes a face again and askes again if anyone ever cleaned the place and I started to get a feeling that he wasn't kidding.

"This _is_ clean for us." I confessed simply. John asks nothing of our cleanliness after that. I take a swing from the drink and it burns its way down when I show him his…our room. He looked at the bottle nervously and I offered him some. I obviously had misunderstood and he hastily refused.

"So John, whats yous doin' on da streets? Why were da Delancy brudders of scum chasin' you? More simply said, what's your story?

John holds up his hands in a protective way but it was playful. "Woah there Mr. Spot Conlon. Lets make this clear, every question I answer must be met and answered with a question of my own about you."

"How is that any fun? Lets make this a game!" I say while linking my fingers behind my head and falling onto the bed. John sits on the end of the bed facing me.

"A game?" He asks. I nod. I ask yous somethin, you ask somethin. Da first person ta A: run out of questions, or B: Refuse ta answer a question, has ta clean da bunkroom instead of sellin papes tomorrow." John grins evily and nodds. I get the strangest feeling that I just made a deal with the devil.

"You can go first." he says. I look John in the eye and notice something I didn't before. There were black smudges under his eye. It almost looked like old makeup residue…

(Bley POV)

"Okay," Spot says in a distracted way, "Lets start off easy. Whats yous parents names?"

I hesitate. "They _were_ named Sarah and Paul. They weren't anyone special. Mom was a seamstress in the centre of town. She had her own shop and everything. Then, she grew ill. My father was- or maybe is still a ticket seller at the Horse Races. I have no clue where the hell he is. I just know he's not home anymore." Spot nods his head and thinks for a minute.

"I'm sorry. I left Scotland when I was a kid with my uncle. He's still around. I just don't care. He is not someone I care about enough to care. He's a cruel man. I ran away from him too." I noticed how he only for that moment fell out of his New York accent

I smile warmly at the boy. So young yet he seemed so in control of everything. "My turn. What is your name?"

He blinks. "Spot." I laugh and he just blinks again and looks confused. "That's not much of a question."

"Your real name!" I laugh again and his face darkens.

"Rlmmm," he mutters

I hold a hand up to my ear and say "Sorry? Is that the sound of defeat so soon? I knew I would beat you but I never thought so soon!" Spot scowls at me.

"I said my name is Reilly." He drinks from the bottle again and breathes deeply emitting the strong smell of alcohol inundating the room.

"Why was that so hard?" I say with a little cough. _Just don't breathe through your nose._

"It reminds me too much of my past. It wasn't a nice life in Scotland. The green pastures and the sheep were just covering the awful place it really was. You couldn't speak unless spoken to. You couldn't leave the house without your mum hitting you for being out too late to help with lunch and supper and all the other ridiculous chores. You couldn't even herd the animals without being scolded for not being able to control the sheep that wondered from the group."

I grimace. "Sounds awful." He nodded solemnly

"Can I ask you something now?" I nod. "What kind of people were you parents?"

I look at my hands folded on my lap and let the words tumble out of my mouth. "My mother was smart. She was nice. She always seemed to know what to do if you got hurt or if you fell or you were sick. When she smiled the whole room seemed to light up and the problems of the day did not seem to matter anymore. My father saw that in her and married her when they were young. But he was not so calm. He had an awful temper. Yelling at us. He hit… my sister a few times. He must have thought my mother could make up for everything he wasn't. She did. But then, as I said, she grew ill. coughing. Sometimes so hard, she would throw up or cough up blood. There was no cure." I left off there.

"Your sister?" Spot asked curiously.

I nod. I was taking the place of my brother so I must go all the way I guess. "Her name… was Bley. She looked… a lot like me actually" I held in a laugh. She does look an awful lot like me. "He… _she _got mixed in with the wrong things… and got herself killed." Now I was linking into my brother's story and I felt suddenly devastated. I haven't really told anyone of my brother.

"I'm so sorry." He said and sipped from the bottle again and again offered me some. I looked at it for the longest time. Then I said no.

Spot slouched down until he lay on the bed and I sat by him. He _was_ attractive. Longish blonde-brown hair that tickled his ears and piercing grey-blue eyes that made my insides go to mush. What made it worse was that now I had to share the same room if not permanently, for a long time. He was bound to figure out my secret.

**So, what do you think? Tell me in a review if you please. I guess some of you might be able to guess where this story goes but I always love adding little twists to the story… :D **

_**If you have any good ideas for a Newsie Nickname for our buddy "John" here, I would love some input because I am lost. Please make it relevant in some way. I don't want a name like "sunshine" and don't make it something stupid like "Idiot" I am not amused by that. I will choose ONE nickname and if I see any funny ones or honorable mentions I will either post them in Chapter 3 or 4. Thanks!**_

_**-Lots of love**_


	3. The Slightest Bit Suspicious

**Hello my fabulous fans! **

**A special thanks to my new best friend "Spot's Gal" For the awesome advice. I do admit Spot starts out of character but as he will explain he is "drunk, tired, and feels a little connection with Bley or "John" so takes it easy on him the first night. I suck at comma placement so I'm awful sorry about that. Predictable is not on my list of "to-do's" so I hope your ready for a wild ride. I am your biggest fan! I love you! (you'll keep getting shout-outs if you keep reviewing! XD) Thank you also "Ealasaid Una" for your support, and thanks again "Spot's Gal (hi)" for subscribing! I love you!**

**PS. Thanks Alex for the name Idea! I will put it inteo consideration but I will not choose until I get a little more input!**

(Bley POV)

The interrogation lasted for an hour or so before we decided to hold it off until tomorrow. Neither of us was breaking and weren't planning on breaking soon. Spot explained to me that his New York accent was all show most of the time but it was catching on to be a permanent thing. He didn't mind, he just missed having proper socialization with someone. I told him pretty much all about my family. Specifically of my mother. He wouldn't let the subject drop. He wanted to know everything about having a family. About me. About Life away from the Newsies. Soon after, he pulled out a cot and laid down himself.

"I'se warnin yous. I am never this nice to da newbies. But I'm drunk, it's been a long day and you haven't had the best life so I'm takin it easy on yous." I noticed that as he spoke and blew out the lamp that he returned to speaking with a New York accent.

"I understand." I say. "I'm tired too and normally I have perfect comebacks for all the stuff you is gonna throw at me. Be warned." He chuckled.

"Break dem early and hard, dats what my Pa always said to me." In the dark I could almost see his face melt into a frown. "It's a rule Ise practice daily. I hate too, but it's true. It's da only way Ise can still keep a tight grip on da Newsies."

"I understand. Say what you will, just please," I say sadly, "don't be surprised at my snappy retorts." I joke and Spot snickers.

"Yah," he snorts, "we'll see 'bout dat."

Morning came earlier than I had planned. It was not the most pleasant morning that I have ever had. I woke up by a hard hit to my head with a golden capped cane.

"What the _hell_ was dat for?" I yelp, rubbing the rapidly growing lump on my forehead.

"It was ta get yous da _hell_ up!" We'se gots da Bannah ta sell!" He holds out a hand to help me up which I reach out to take but he quickly lets go when I'm an foot off the ground and I land on my butt. He laughs. "Ise not helpin yous up! I told you. Break 'em hard an' early!" He laughs and goes downstairs, slamming the door behind him, his hoots echo through the door as he stomps down screaming for the boys to wake up.

_Damn, he's obnoxious. _

I realize that I am alone. I pull off my cap and re-braid my hair.

"I knew yous looked familiar." chimed a voice from the doorway. "I'se able to recognize dat hat anywhere." I turn and pull on my hat as quick as possible. In the doorway, I see a face that I thought I'd never see again.

"Anthony?" I ask. When he smirks, I know I'm not just seeing things. He holds out his arms and I run into them. When John was a Manhattan Newsie, he was the only one that I ever got to meet before John passed.

"Call me Racetrack. 'Round here, yous aint nuthin witout a nickname." He pushed me away just in time so the passing boys would not see our embrace. "Hey, I'se came here to see Spotty-Boy. Yous seen him dis mornin'?" I point to the bruise on my forehead and he pushes aside my hat to see it better. "Yous deffenetly saw the ass dis mornin' huh?"

I nod. "He decided to grace me with his absence and annoy the boys downstairs for a little while." Racetrack snorts out a laugh. "What do you need him for anyway?" He shuffles a foot uncomfortably.

"Jacky said that I'se cant say it ta anyone but Spotty-Boy." Race paints on a brave smile and tries to brighten the mood. "So, whats yous doin here?" Dressed as a guy. In John's old clothes." I frown again. "C'mon Bley, yous can trust me. I'm not like da Slime-Ball Colon." I went to open my mouth when "Slime-Ball Colon" walks in eyeing Anthony and me.

"Makin friends wit Tony, are we John?" He leans in and punches my arm.

"Ha. Ha. I'se thinks yous smell woise den da Delancy bruddas." Race waves a hand dramatically in front of his nose and Spot chuckles quietly. "Anyhoo, Jack was wonderin if you guys could talk later today. He'll be comin' by either way… he just wants ta know if you'd be okay wit it or send a bad of your Newsies attem." Spot raises an eyebrow skeptically.

"If I'se send my Newsies attem, he'd be runnin." He says, crossing his arms.

"You know good and well Jacky-Boy woulda soak you and your Newsies dat get in his way. No problem." Spot doesn't say anything as if anything he would say would be taken as surrender.

"He can come. I'se will lettem. If he does anything tricky, sneaky," Spot steps up into Race's face and Race doesn't cringe but stands up straighter, "even the slightest bit suspicious," when Spot puts his cane to his chin, Race lets out a shaky breath. Spot laughs wickedly and steps back and leans on his cane casually, "Lets just say," A glint of evil flashes across his eyes, "I'se not worried about getting my streets a little dirty. I'se has enough lives on my plate an' a few more wont matter much ta me."

Race gulps and nods. I may not know Anthony that well, enough to trust him, but I know _nothing _scares him. He was always the most intrepid and fearless person I have ever known. Seeing here, like this, like a scared cornered mouse about to be eaten by a cane wielding cat ready to pounce, made me scared. Made me _terrified._

'_What have I gotten myself into. Spot is_ crazy_!'_ I think.

Spot makes shooing hand motions, "Get outta here. This place is starting ta smell like Manhattan." Spot spits out the last word like it was poison in his mouth. "John, show him da door." He puts a hand on my shoulder and gives me a gentle push toward the Manhattan Newsie who was trying to walk tall but failing pitifully. I bob my head once and follow Racetrack out of the room.

"_Damn_." Racetrack swore and shuddered "I'se hate dat guy already." I take his hand a give it a little squeeze. "You know," he says, "you could always come to Manhattan wit me. Jacky would likely take you'se in like 'e did you'se brudda Blues."

I cock my head "Blues?" Race nods.

"Was 'is nickname. Jacky gave it ta him wit one look at 'is cap." he bats the rim down over my eyes and I laugh.

"Gimme a week here. I wanna check this place out a little more before I go. Plus, Spot is not likely to let me go to another clan of Newsies without a perfectly good reason." Race looks at me for a long time.

"… Fine." He says sadly. "But lemme know as soon as you wanna ditch dis dump. You's know where ta find me." We shake hands and Race picks up his papers by the door and walks away down the street. I watched until he disappeared around a corner before climbing the stairs back upstairs to get my bag. Spot was waiting for me.

"That kid better not come back 'round here without a hell of a good reason."

"Do you really think that was necessary… you know, scaring him like that?" Spot cracks up, doubling over from laughing so hard.

"Necessary? HA! It was _perfect_! Won't have to deal with anymore Manhattan Newsies 'round here for a while!" He clutches his stomach and falls onto the bed laughing "did you _see _his face?"

"Yes I did."

"That's the kind of thing I live for!"

"Oh?"

"Yes!"

"I live for loyalty and trust."

Spot stops laughing and sits up to look at me. "John… I-"

He doesn't get to finish before I am out the door with my bag over my shoulder and fists clenched if anyone tries to follow me. Sadly, Spot does follow me and I don't have the guts to hit him.

"Don't walk away from me!" he says running to keep up with me.

"And why not?" I say through clenched teeth

"Because… I'm Spot Conlon." He says.

"And who is that? A bully. A jerk who cares for no one but himself. A coward." I stop to face him and we are inches apart. "And that's supposed to make you special? Better than everyone else?" He just looks back, his face emotionless, "Yah," I scoff, "Some leader you are." I walk on but Spot stands in the atrium, right where he was, his head inclined down the slightest bit. The boys who were down stairs at the moment stare at us wide eyed and silent. If Spot ever did react, I didn't see. I slammed the door and the sound echoed through the streets of Brooklyn and through the house.

**NEED NAMES FOR JOHN! /BLEY! **

**Thanks for all the support from you guys! All the reviews and subscriptions and all that jazz… I love you guys… no, really! Lemme know if you guys love me back by…. REVIEWING! Thank you so much! Check out my profile page for a contest! Winners will get a shout out in my story and a chance to have their own character in my story! So will all the best reviewers! I cannot put all my lovelies in the shout out so I guess its yet _another _contest… e.e **

**LOTS 'O LOVE,**

**- Quirk**

**(My ideal review is not just complements! give me real feedback to hep me make my story better!)**

**BONUS!**

**SNEAK PEEK OF CHAPTER 4! **

(Bley POV)

I planned on finding racetrack again before he got too far away. I ran the way he went and dodged the men going to work and the women shopping around. At the intersection at the end of the street, I was lost. I had no clue where Racetrack had gone.

"Hey, you'se lookin' for someone?" A voice asks me and I turn to see the source. There was an older kid, about two whole heads taller than me. Around his neck was a red scarf and a cowboy hat perched on his head.

I nod. "yah, one of my friends Racetrack." the boys eyes widen and he steps back.

"Is you'se Blues back from da dead? Takin' revenge on your friend for all dis bad stuff?"

I chuckle darkly "Yes, and you are next!" He pales and I laugh so hard my stomach hurts. "Your Jack, right? Jack Kelly?" He looks at me skeptically.

"Who's askin'?" I open my mouth but think better of it and pull him to the side.

"I'm John's sister." his eyes bug out and at first it look likes he's gonna have a seizure but his face breaks into a grin.


	4. Deadly Familiar

**SORRRRRRY My wonderful readers for I have made the mistake of not pre-reading my work before I post and I spelled Spot Conlon's name wrong in all 3 chapters (Well actually It was the auto correct on my computer! Didn't even realize it was correcting anything!). DX don't hate meeee!**

(Bley POV)

I planned on finding racetrack again before he got too far away. I ran the way he went and dodged the men going to work and the women shopping around. At the intersection at the end of the street, I was lost. I had no clue where Racetrack had gone.

"Hey, you'se lookin' for someone?" A voice asks me and I turn to see the source. There was an older kid, about two whole heads taller than me. Around his neck was a red scarf and a cowboy hat perched on his head.

I nod. "yah, one of my friends Racetrack." the boys eyes widen and he steps back.

"Is you'se Blues back from da dead? Takin' revenge on your friend for all dis bad stuff?"

I chuckle darkly "Yes, and you are next!" He pales and I laugh so hard my stomach hurts. "Your Jack, right? Jack Kelly?" He looks at me skeptically.

"Who's askin'?" I open my mouth but think better of it and pull him to the side.

"I'm John's sister." his eyes bug out and at first it look likes he's gonna have a seizure but his face breaks into a grin.

"Really? Blues used to talk a lot about you! He never mentioned you were a cross-dresser though…"

"No, no, no. I am not a cross-dresser. I'm a Newsie now. My dad left me alone and I decided that it was the last straw and I ran away." Jack looked impressed.

"Really? Who you'se stayin with?"

"You say really an awful lot." I say.

"Just answer the question." He says with an eye roll.

"Spot Colon took me in." That's when his face dropped.

(Spot POV (PS. Sorry the last chapter was all Bley))

Loyalty and Trust.

Loyalty and Trust?

Loyalty and Trust.

John's words rang in my head while I stood there in the atrium, listening to the slam echo through the large house. The whole world seemed to disappear around me and I walked back up the stairs to my room where I lie down on my bed and stare at the ceiling. That _stupid_ boy! making me look like a complete _idiot_ in front of all the boys. I should hate him.

Loyalty and Trust?

It seemed like two concepts far from anything that he would get around here.

Loyalty and Trust.

Were those even real things anymore? As long as I've been around here, I have never felt Loyalty or Trust toward anyone and I am certain that no one has felt them towards me.

"Loyalty and Trust."

The words fell out of my mouth in a nervous rush, as if that saying those words would make the bitter reality of Trickery and Betrayal more real. I _know_ that I fool people. That I trick and manipulate them into doing what I want whether it is right for Brooklyn or not. I _know_ that I betray people's trust. That I make a pact and break it, knowing they may never trust me again because it's amusing and "none of my concern" if their plans are ruined and their clan goes into chaos.

Loyalty and Trust.

I _knew_ that those were the things I wanted from John. Not his allegiance. Not his money. Not _him_. I wanted…

"Spot… Spo-ot." said an annoyingly loud and obnoxious voice.

"What?" I snap, my eyes flying open. Had I really fallen asleep? One of the Newsies stood awkwardly next to the bed rocking back and forth on his heels. "What is it Tack?"

"You'se needs to get up. Jack's here. He brought Racetrack and John wit 'im." I wave him off with a lazy hand and stand up tiredly. Why was John with him? I hope there isn't any controversy over him. John was my Newsie.

My Newsie.

_My Newsie._

Mine.

"Spot Conlon. Well if it aint da leadah himself." Jack Kelly's face lights up like a kid's on Christmas.

Jack spat into his hand and held it out; I did so as well. "Jacky-Boy. Long time no see. Hows yous been doin'?" Jack grimaced.

"Well, a couple of my Newsies were out late last night tryin' ta sell all deyre papes an they met up wit a couple of your Newsies at Tibby's."

"Why were dey togetha?" I ask, a little frustrated because he would not get to the point.

"A couple are siblings. A few are cousins. A few jus' tagged along. But really that is not the point. The point is that afta' dey left Tibby's, dey got attacked. Some o' dem were hurt real bad. One is still unconscious. One of our boys got…" Jack gave me the look that meant that something happened that was worse than getting hit, "and one of your boys got away jus' before. Righ' now da boys are all restin' at our place and will be comin' home to Brooklyn by tomorrow 'cept for da guy who got knocked out. He will be ova deyr at our place til' Monday at least." Today was Saturday.

"Well, who did all dis?" I ask, fury building up in my blood.

Jack sighed. "Da Delancy Bruddas." I heard John's sharp intake of breath. I saw his face pale to a sickly white. I saw Racetrack's hand snake down to meet his. For some reason that made me angrier.

"Well we gonna soak dem." Jack didn't meet my eyes. "Right?"

"Spot. My boys are scared. We need your help. We need your skilled fighters."

"What would be in it for me?" I growl as I see John give a sweet and innocent looking smile at Racetrack who throws back a wink and a smile.

"You'd get revenge on the guys who beat up your Newsies."

"Yah. That doesn't matter to me righ' now. I don' wanna risk da lives and, I can't believe I'm sayin' this, virginity of my Newsies on some worthless lumps of rock." John glares at me silently.

"Well youse better get your head in the game and outta da clouds cuz it's not like no ones gonna get hurt. Okay? It's inevitable. But the longer we let dis slide, the harder it's gonna be ta beat dese guys."

I don't meet Jack's stare for the longest time but rather look into John's eyes. I don't see any black under his eyes and I wonder if I was just imagining it that first night. The eyes were filled with rage.

"No. If I'se change my mind, I'll let you'se know. And I highly doubt that. Leave. Your not welcome here anymore." Jack looks sorrowful at me and then pulls John off to the side, him still clinging to Racetrack's hand, and starts murmuring something. John shakes his head.

"No, really, it's fine. I'll talk to him." Jack says something more and they shake hands warmly and John squeezes Race's hand one last time before waving them off over the bridge. John stares after them until they are only specs then he turns around. I know I'm in trouble.

"Now John, I-"

"You _jerk!_ You just turned your back on all of the Newsies in New York. On the thing that would be best for the whole entire city. If this place goes into chaos, I blame you." The setting sun behind his head makes an eerie orange-red glow cover his face to make him look even angrier.

"I did what I had to-" he cuts me off again.

"You're the _worst damn leader _I have ever, _ever seen!_ You're a coward!"

I hear a few snickers from the boys surrounding us. That's what set me off. "You have _no right_ to talk to me like that! You are making a fool out of me in front of my own Newsies. You just wanted this to be public huh? Couldn't wait to ruin me in front of everyone who respects me? huh? You are no better than I am you _ass. Get out of here now! _ I don't want to see you around here. Go starve on the streets or find Jacky-Boy and your little _boyfriend_." I stop, my face red from yelling, Johns face more pink than red either from embarrassment of public scolding or the fact that I just accused him of being gay.

"FINE!" He screams at me and picks up his bag. "You know, I was heading to Manhattan that night." John looks at me, his face suddenly sad. "I has always thought that Brooklyn would be a dream. I heard that they were strong and brave and cared for others. That they had what I wanted for my life." John lets out a loud sigh and turns his back to me. "I guess it was another one of your tricks."

"John I-" and yet again I am interrupted.

"Have fun cleaning the bunkroom Spot." And then he ran. The bag on his shoulder flew out behind him as he ran to the bridge. Without even a glance back, John was gone and I felt like a part of me was gone as well.

_What had I done?_

(Bley POV)

Bang goes that home. I was _kicked out_. That's definitely a first for me. Spot just made me so… so… _irate_. He had absolutely NO right to talk to a lady that way, whether he knew I was one or not. It was getting dark and there still was no sign of Jack or Race. No sign of the Newsies out at all tonight. They must all be hiding away from the Delancy brothers. If I ever get my hands on Spot I'll-

Two large hands grab me from behind. I scream and thrash but my noises are muffled and my movement is restrained by another pair of hands.

"Lets make this short and sweet, kay? We do what we want you don't try to get away again. You make a noise, we slit your throat." growls a voice into my ear. A familiar voice. An almost too familiar voice.

"Yah. Let us have our fun," says another deadly familiar voice, "and we might just not hurt you…

too bad…" They burst into laughter and pull me aside into an alley.

The Delancy Brothers.

**OMG! This is a real turning point in the story! Yay! So, I have decided how to get this little secret of her's figured out by Spot. I only got one vote in my pole and I'm just gonna go with it! So thank you voter and thank you everyone else for reading! I check my stats daily and I am just hoping they keep going up! Read and Review! This story will not get any worse as far as the rating goes so your all safe.**

**PS I NEED A NAME FOR BLEY BEFORE THE NEXT CHAPTER IS COMING OUT OR ELSE I'LL USE THE TOP ONE ON MY LIST AND IF YOU HAD A BETTER IDEA, IT'S YOUR FAULT FOR NOT SPITTING IT OUT!**

I love you guys!

- Quirk


	5. Who is the real John Rhames?

**Hiya, Long time, no see, huh? Anyways, I didn't get any new Ideas for Bley except for one in a Private Message. o.o so, I will hold it off for literally, only one more chapter just because this is a short one (and kind of intense so WARNING). GIVE ME YOU'RE OPPINIONS! Checklist for all readers:**

**Gimme a name that could work for Bley**

**CHECK OUT MY PROFILE PAGE! and answer an anonymous poll to help make my story better and more reader-centered! **

**Really enjoy this and think of what is to come! **

PART ONE OF CHAPTER FIVE

**(**Spot POV)

After I cooled down, I went to my room where John's old cot still lay on the cold ground. It seemed to me mocking me. I stared at it for a long time, memorizing all the little details of it because it felt like there was nothing better to do. Then I noticed a lump. On one corner, the cot had a little rectangular lump under the corner. I crawl off of the bed and poke the corner up and see a brown book. I grab it and inspect the writings. It had a somewhat fancy scrawl look to it, but I couldn't read it well enough to figure it out.

"Dammit!" I murmured and flipped through the worn pages some more. I got to a photographed section. The brown faded pictures were held in with some kind of sticky stuff. Looking at one, I saw a boy, about 10 in a blue Newsie cap grinning and sitting with some lady that I didn't recognize. Although I couldn't make out the face in any of the photographs, the boy looked a little like John. The next picture was of two boys, both kissing a young girl- about 8 or 9- on the cheeks. One was Racetrack and the other was the same boy in the blue Newsie hat, must have been John. The girl must have been John's sister. She definitely had John's face- family resemblance- and a visible blush on her cheeks. The last one was a picture and a cut-out article from a Newspaper.

_ John Rhames died at 2pm yesterday afternoon (March 6, 1898). He was stabbed multiple times and left in an alley way off of Wade Street. He died in the custody of the paramedics. The Rhames family, Joshua and his young daughter Bley, are heart broken. The wake will be on Monday and friends and family are welcome. Any more questions on the topic contact 75 West Street, Brooklyn New York, New York. _

I stared at the article. And then at the picture. The caption told me it was John. The face told me otherwise.

What have I done? Did I really let a kid out there, all alone at night? I stand up and run out the door, my hand on my cane and the book swinging in a bag by my side.

(Bley POV)

I felt the scream bubbling up inside of me. But I kept silent. This was not going well at all. They were inches from discovering my identity, 2 inches, 1 inch, a centimeter…

"Morris," Oscar says hovering over me, his eyes filled with a crazed look that I couldn't describe, even if I wanted to. "Look at our little dove here." Morris leans over me as well and I do my best to cringe away.

The brothers exchange looks and I know I'm doomed.

"Mo, I think we're gonna have more fun tonight then we had planned."

(Spot POV)

I make it, finally, panting, to the Manhattan Newsies boarding house. Kid Blink opens the door when I knock. He at first was smiling, his face molding around the bandage. We make eye contact and he suddenly understands. His face drops and he backs up and yells up the stairs, "_Jack!" _

"Wha-?" he says with a towel on his shoulders, he pokes his head out from an upstairs doorway.

"Spot's here an' that means sumthin's wrong." Blink throws another nervous glance at me, "Really wrong."

(Bley POV)

All I know is pain right now. I don't let the screams out. No one is going to hear me. Minuets seem like years.

"_SPOT!"_ I finally scream.

(Spot POV)

Jack and I ran out of the house as soon as we realized that neither of us had seen John in the longest time. He was gone. Whether he was the real John or not, he might be in trouble and that is not something my conscience will allow.

We each took one of the Manhattan Newsies with us. I got Blink- we always seemed to get along pretty well- Jack took Racetrack because, well, I wanted him no where near me.

If John- or whoever he is- is out there, we might not find him, considering that he could be anywhere in the city by now and the lack of proper light.

"We're gonna find he… him Spot. Jack knows this part of New York better than anyone I know." Blink says placing a comforting hand on my shoulder. I shrug it off and trudge ahead.

(Bley POV)

When I screamed, they hit me. But it didn't really hurt as much as the feeling of despair growing in my gut. I squeezed my eyes shut. I didn't want to see anything that they were doing to me.

(Spot POV)

"Why would John be this way?" Blink asks me. He has to trot to catch up. We were in a weird neighborhood.

"Just a hunch." I say, trying to recall the address in the book.

(Bley POV)

I was trapped in a game I could never. Ever. Win. I scream again.

(Spot POV)

"Did you hear that?" Blink asks but I'm already running.

(Bley POV)

I hear footsteps. _Someone help me._

(Spot POV)

Not caring who I hit or how hard I hit or even if I kill them, I whack the two men in the alley way until they are unconscious if not dead. And then I see it. A small figure, pushing itself into a corner and shaking with loud sobs.

(Bley POV)

I couldn't even stop crying long enough to see who saved me before I lost consciousness.

(Spot POV)

Blink made me turn away while he wrapped his jacket around John and carried him away.

(Bley POV)

I Think

(Spot POV)

I don't like the feeling I got when I saw the bloody hand sway as John was carried away.

(Bley POV)

I May Just

(Spot POV)

It felt like the feeling I got from my family when I had one, but stronger.

(Bley POV)

But It's Crazy right?

(Spot POV)

It can't be that though. I mean, he's a boy…

(Bley POV)

He's… I mean, I'm not really...

(Spot POV)

I can't be…

(Both)

In love?

PART TWO OF CHAPTER 5

(Bley POV)

I wake in Spot's room. There is a stabbing pain in places I never knew I had. In places that are my biggest secret. A knock on the door makes me look that way which then makes more pain spark up along my spine and throughout my neck and back. The door opens slowly. In walks a small parade of people. Jack, Racetrack, and a person who I recognize as Kid Blink who brought my brother a newspaper when he was getting sick.

"She's awake!" Jack says, a grin spreading across his face.

Blink smiles too, "Youse kinda looks like a cat now Bley." he runs two fingers across my cheeks on both sides and I feel where Oscar cut me with the knife the night before. I manage to lift a corner of my mouth slightly.

Racetrack just stands in the doorway. Silent. Emotionless.

"Hey," Jack taps on my shoulder lightly and ruffles my hair and puts my hat on my head. I look up. "We were worried out of our mind. We're glad you're okay." I nod. Jack squeezes one of my hands affectionately and Blink smiles awkwardly.

They walk out, leaving Racetrack and I alone.

He slowly walks over and sits on my bed without meeting my eye.

"You scared me. I was loosing my mind."

"Race-" I start

"No! I was _terrified! I was freaking terrified when I thought I would never see you again!" _I sit up at his outburst. He was _crying_.

"Race-" I start again

"Don't do that to me again."

"Race!"

"Ever!"

"Racetrack!"

"Promise!" He yells.

"_Anthony!"_ I yell right back.

He looks up, his eyes were red and he had dark under-eye circles.

He puts a hand on my cheek. "Promise." He says, his voice soft this time.

I look into his eyes. "I promise." That when he kisses me.

And I kiss back.

(Spot POV)

I hear yelling upstairs and I go investigate.

That's when Racetrack kisses John.

I burst in.

**So, I hope you guys liked this chapter! Anyway, Cliff hangers are my specialty so no offense to my readers! ^_^**

**CHECK OUT MY PROFILE! THANKS! Tell me what you think**

**READ AND REVIEW!**


	6. Tell me you didn't

**Getting to the point quick today. Read chapter and then REVIEW the chapter. Thanks. Enjoy.**

(Spot POV)

"Get out of here _right now!"_ I scream and rip the two boys apart on the bed. Racetrack looks startled and John looks horrified. "I _will _make you if I have to!" I say to Race balling my fists and preparing to punch.

He says "Your not worth it," flips me off and goes downstairs.

(Racetrack POV)

I walked down the stairs in a daze. Bley kissed me back. Sure, it was when I was about to have some kind of panic attack and I was having a tantrum but really, she still did. I don't know if she has any feelings for that Spot kid but if she does, he's competing with me. I rarely ever loose anything.

"Race, youse look like youse just discovered da foist pegacorn." Jack says when I get to the bottom of the stairs.

"What da hell is a pegacoin Jack? An' no, pegagoin's really sound intarestin an all but dis is betta dan dat."

"I hoid alotta yellin up deyer an I thought maybe youse were tryin ta catch it befoa it attacked your goilfreind." Jack says as if it all makes absolute perfect sense.

"Youse is nuts."

"I guess dat's what youse says." Jack smirks and takes me by the arm back to Manhattan.

(Bley POV)

"What was that?" I scream at Spot. He doesn't even look phased.

"Ise don' even want ta know what youse were doin' deyer wit Race." He says with a hand on his forehead. "Listen. I'se got strong feelins toward youse an' im not quite sure what dey are." He says sitting next to me and taking deep breaths, trying to calm down. "Whether it's brotherly or something else… I do not like the idea of you even near him!" he slips out of his accent and plops backward onto the bed.

"What… what do you mean 'something else?'."

Spot is silent for a while. "I- I… I don't really know yet." The room falls into an uncomfortable silence. "Oh. I found this. After you left." he holds my scrap book up to me.

"You didn't read it?" I ask curiously. If he did, my secret might as well have gone down the drain.  
"No. I saw the pictures though. Cursive is a little too… loopy for me."

I breathe out a sigh.

Thank god. If he doesn't know then I have nothing to worry about for the others.

(Spot POV)

I should have confronted him right then and there about John Rhames's obituary but something held me back. If he wanted to be secretive, that was all his choice. Although, something kept telling me that this kid was not John Rhames. Maybe not even John at all. But I was never good at problem solving. Something in my mind just would not let me piece together the clues at all. It might be this thing I have that Doc, the Newsie that served as a doctor for small stuff like cuts and scrapes, called ADHD. I have no clue what the letters stood for, and most likely not even what the words they stood for meant.

"Thank you." John said suddenly.

"What for?" I ask.

"Well, you beat the shit out of Oscar and Morris and I really appreciate that." He says with a grin. I smile back.

"It was fun." I mumbled.

"Well of coarse. Bustin' Delancy scum is always fun!" John says with a goofy smile.

"If only goils would say dat evry once in a while dan my life would be complete!" I exclaim.

John scratches his neck nervously. "Yah…if only." He sighs out.

(Racetrack POV)

"Race. Youse knows dat once a Brooklyn goil always a Brooklyn goil right? Dats what Spot always used ta say."

I look at Jack with an idea brewing in my mind.

"Yeah Jacky Boy, not foa long she aint."

(Spot POV)

Long after John had fallen asleep in my bed, I was up cutting a piece of wood to shreds with my knife when there is a soft knock on the door.

I throw open the door. "Damnit, it's like three in da mornin an'… Race? What da hell are yous doin hea?"

He stands there quietly.

"Race. What da hell are youse doin hea at did hour?"

"Sorry. Blink Jack an' I got da little patient some medicine." He says holding up a brown paper bag. "Directions are in da bag. Give her the right dosage now tonight. The docter said that you'll have to do dis examination thing befoa and that it's explained inside. I gotta head back so Jack trusts youse ta give her what she needs." He shuts the door on himself and I stand there holding the bag, confused. Really confused.

(Bley POV)

My chest hurt. Bad.

Someone shakes my shoulder. I moan and try to turn onto my side but the hand wraps around my waist and pulls me back.

"Hey, wake up. I have some medicine for you. It'll help you feel better."

I squint open an eye.

"I don feel like it Spot. It's too early." I try to sit up and my body refuses to move without a fight and I gasp through my teeth.

"No. You need it now."

"I'm fine. Stop babying me." I growl.

"Not 'till you get better."

"You're persistent Mr. Spot Conlon."

"But of coarse." He grins and helps me sit up.

I scoff and roll my eyes. "And annoying as hell."

"Oh really?" He asks while unfolding a piece of paper that he pulled out of a brown paper bag. "And how annoying is hell?"

I whack him and he snickers. Then he turns pale. Then pink. Then red.

"Spot you look like a tomato. Lemme see." I say and snatch the paper from his hands.

_Dear Caretaker,_

_Follow these directions carefully and your patient should show signs of recovery within an hour of the practice. If signs of irritation follow, notify the doctor that prescribed the medicine to your patient. Sincerely,_

_Doctor Coppola_

_Inspection:_

_Strip patient of all outer clothes and see where there are bruises or anywhere the skin is discolored. Use that as a rating for number of pills to be taken._

_Dosage:_

_Girls or Women: Take one tablet unless there is much bruising. Then two is necessary._

_Boys or Men: Take two or three using same application of bruising as females. _

_**WARNING: DO NOT TAKE MORE THAN YOU NEED OR SEVERE SICKNESS OR EVEN DEATH MAY OCCOUR**_

(Race POV)

"You did not just deliver the medicine to Spot. _Tell_ me you did not deliver the medicine to Spot." Jack says angrily as I shut the door quietly behind me.

"She needed the relief." I say in a pouting voice.

"You know you just might have ruined her whole secret and everything she worked for. She will hate you if she ever does find out."

"You don't want to see her hurt anymore than I do. She will hurt less tonight. And if you don't tell her, betterer over time."

"Race, I think that smoke is killin youse brain cells. She's gonna be helpless, in da same room as Spot Conlon, an about as vulnerable as a goil gets. An' betterer is not a woid."

"Spot Conlon is a coward. He aint neva goin ta do anythin ta her cuz she's already impoitent to him." I cross my arms. "An it is ta da uders so it is ta me."

"I swear, you may have just done da stupidest thing just ta get a goils attention." Jack says and runs out the door, most likely going to Brooklyn to try and stop Spot. But I think we both know…

He'll be too late.

**Ohh… This chapter took me a while to write but it was fuuun! I'm making Race seem like the bad guy right now… sorry to the fans of him then… e.e but it won't be for that long. Race just needs to find where his head is at and fight the right way in this game. And also yes, Bley STILL has no name yet… That is because I really am not sure quite yet. It's deciding between two right now. **

**IN THE NEXT CHAPTER: You meet the absolute CUTEST boys ever to walk the earth in my story: the twins, Salt and Pepper. Trust me, they will steal your heart just like Spot does! **

**LOTS OF LOVE**

**Quirk**


	7. Chaser

**Tee hee. Funness writing this chapter. Enjoy it my lovelies. PS. Sorry for the baaaad swear. Had to put it in there. my friend told me to. I BLAME PEER PREASURE!**

(Spot POV)

"Um. I am gonna wait until the morning for this." he says and tries to toss the paper away.

"Racetrack told me that Jack wants you to have it tonight you know? I guess you can… inspect yourself… but…. I don't know."

"I am fine for tonight. Spot just leave it."

"Hah. Your not fine. Just take the medicine and follow the directions." I say back.

"Make me." he says glaring.

"Really, can't I get you to do anything without us at each other's throats? Just take the damn medicine."

He is silent for a moment. "Bite. Me." he growls through clenched teeth.

I take a step back. "What?"

"I said bite me. Fuck off. Leave me alone."

"You don't talk to me like that!" I hiss back. No need to wake the others.

"I can talk to you however I want Spot Conlon. I'm gonna wait till the morning and that is final. Understand?"

I don't answer. I stand looking at him and he sits looking at me. Silence.

"Fine. At least take off your hat." I say. "It'll be even worse for your neck."

John looks taken aback. "Uh…" he stammers. "I don't want it to get stolen."

"You really take me to be that bad of a guy? I'm not gonna steal your hat."

"My heads cold."

"It's at least 90 degrease in here.

"I like my hat."

"Yah I do too but your gonna get a crick in your neck."

"I can't."

"And why cant you?"

"It's glued on."

"Hah, I highly doubt that." I go to reach for the hat and quick as a cat, he lunges away from me and is suddenly on the other side of the room.

"No. Don't Spot."

"Just take off your hat." I jump at him again.

"Spot stop." I stop.

"What?"

"I-I… I have something to confess."

"What that your bald because that really isn't that bad."

"No, no, no… Spot. Who do you think I am?"

"John Rhames."

He sighs and sits in a chair that stood in a corner. "You read the article?" I nod, ashamed. "You saw the pictures then too?" I was starting to get nervous. I nod again. "After seeing those. Don't lie. Who do you think I am?"

"I-…" sigh "I don't know."

"Spot," he takes a step closer. "take off my hat."

"What?" I ask bewildered. "You just finished making me chase you around the room to do just that and now you want me to-"

"Take off my hat. Spot, take off my damn shirt if you have to. I am sick and tired of lying about this and if that's what you have to do to believe it so be it because I don't want to play with anyone's emotions or thoughts any more."

I stare at him. "What?"

"Just… do it."

Hesitently I reach my arm up to the blue cap resting on the boy's head. With a flourish, I whip it off.

It falls to the floor, along with two hair pins and a ribbon.

(Bley POV)

"Spot, I'm-"

"You're a girl?" he askes loudly.

"Shaddup!" I say and whack him.

"Sorry."

"Yes you dimwit. I'm a girl. Now first things first, who gave you that medicine?"

Spot for the first time in a while was at a loss of words.

"You're a girl?"

"I just said I was." I put my hands on my hips. "Now, who delivered the medicine. If Jack knows about it, he most likely either sent it with himself, Blink or Race and I will get it out of you right now MY WAY if you don't tell me right now."

"You. Are a girl? That would explain so much."

"That's it." I jump at him and tackle him to the cot. Holding his hands to his ears I ask again. "Who delivered the medicine?"

With a nervous gulp, he finally answers the name that I suspected most. "Racetrack."

"What?" Just because I suspected it, doesn't mean I was ready for it.

Spot uses my immediate distraction to flip me over and replace me for him. "Why were you pretending?"

"You saw how the Delancy brother's treated me. They worked me over real bad because I was a girl. My father treated me just about the same way, except at least he didn't try to hurt me too bad." I got up in Spot's face. "I didn't want the _notorious _Spot Conlon to do that to me either." Spot looks shocked. "You don't hear the rumors do you? The ones saying you'll beg just to get under a woman's skirts."

Spot sneers at me. "Number one, I don't beg. Second, I may be well known but not for that."

I let out a laugh. "Oh yes you are. Ask anyone. They may not say it to your face but you are a chaser."

That's when he slaps me. "Don't call me that!" He didn't hit hard. Just enough to get my attention.

"Or what? You'll just turn on me."

"I don't turn my back on anyone!"

"You turned your back on Jack!" I retort.

"Not on you."

"Prove it!"

So he kisses me.

I let in a small gasp. Spot just kissed me. After figuring out that I was a girl no more than five minutes ago. Just right there, out of the blue. On the floor with my hands pinned above my head. In such circumstances, I should have hit him or tried to escape. I should have at least squirmed. But I didn't.

I

Kissed

Back

**Done. It's short but I'm saving up for a nice BIG chapter when I get back from Vacation. I'll be gone for 8 days on Saturday so try not to miss me too much!**

**-Quirk**

**=Quirk= How was that for an ending? It took me a while to decide exactly how That was gonna happen… I guess this works. And Salt and Pepper will make their appearance… next chapter. XOXOXOXOX So will her name... NEW NAME! NEW NEWSIE NAME! XD**


	8. Not even all of Brooklyn

**Hiya! Yah, I know I know! My weekly update was interrupted by vacation. It killed me but I typed this up as fast as I could. Salt and Pepper play a bigger part as the story moves on and to tell the truth, I think they are pretty awesome! I missed you guys. And I literally was jumping up and down when Bridgy commented. She was like my inspirational Fanfic author who inspired me to get an account and write. So, Thank you Bridgy for being my amazing role model and for comenting. Also a special thanks to everyone who put me on their alerts! Much appreciated! 333**

**-Quirk**

(Bley POV)

At the same time I came to my senses, Jack stormed in the doorway. At that point I was trying to push Spot off of me. So, you can imagine how bad it looked.

Jack shoves Spot to the wall and he grabs my bag and hat off of the floor and says "Come on."

I wanted to go at that point. Spot had lived up to his name. He had taken the chance that I did not intentionally left open.

"Where'se youse goin?" Spot asked. "I didn't do nuthin!" He looked at me. "Tell him! Tell him I didn't mean it that way!"

I don't meet his eye but rather look at Jack. "Let's go. He's just a no good _chaser_ Jack."

(Jack POV)

Now I knew Spot wasn't the best person with the girls. He always tries stuff on any girl he meets. But when I saw him there, It was a whole other story for me. She was hurt, possibly a broken rib. She just happened to reveal herself as a girl only seconds before. Now he was on top of her. That's the kind of time where you just completely loose all respect for someone.

I don't want to know what Racetrack will do or say next time he has to see Spot.

(Racetrack POV)

I saw Bley walk in the doors and I jumped up from my poker game. "Bley! What are you doing here?" Bley scowls and turns away from me. I throw a questioning glance at Jack but he just shrugs.

Our two newest boys skip behind Jack. The twins Salt and Pepper. They are only about 13 but beat me in poker three times already.

"Jack! Your back!" they say in unison.

"Must you always talk at da same time?" He asks.

"Must you always nag us?" Pepper retorts back.

"Ooh. Who's this I may ask?" Salt says with a bow.

Bley spares a smile. Blink calls over from the bathroom door. "She's too old for you Salt. Anyways, she's Race's goil.

"I am _not _Race's girl!" Bley shouts at him.

In the meantime I am red and embarrassed.

"Ohhhh… you just got turned down by the hottest girl I've ever seen…" Pepper says punching my arm. "I approve."

(Bley POV)

What hurts the most is not the fact that he kissed me and probably didn't even mean it in a way that a kiss was supposed to me meant. Not that Racetrack willingly exposed me to who I truly was. Not even my broken rib and the bruises. It's the _hunger… longing _I feel towards Spot. I haven't seen him in four weeks. I haven't seen Racetrack in four weeks. I don't miss Race… well; I do but not like Spot. I need to see Spot. But I don't want to.

(Spot POV)

What hurts the most is my lack of interest in everything when John… _Bley_ left. Jem cooped me up in my room for a while like a little kid. So what if I was drunk. So what if I threw a temper tantrum. It's not a big deal. Jem keeps on saying how if I keep it up, he will take my place as Brooklyn leader. Right now I don't care. I realize how I am exactly what everyone thinks of me. I don't want to be that way. I just need to talk to her.

(Bley POV)

Jack kept me under close watch. He suffocated me with rules and restrictions. "You can't leave the bed let alone this room 'cept for the bathroom 'til I say so. No conversing with the boys after 6:30. No let Salt and Pepper in your room cuz they will keep talking until you die. Take your medicine. Do not fight. Do not swear. Do not annoy the doctor. DO NOT call him an old coot again. Do not waste his time. No, you are not allowed to talk to Racetrack OR Spot; too much stress. Do not break any of these rules or penalties will ensue."

"Yada yada yada. When will I be able to get out of this place?" I ask the doctor smartly.

"You young lady are going nowhere until you feel completely restored to prior health." I grimace.

"I feel fine." I retort in his face.

"No you do not. Your rib is not healed at all yet. and if you keep moving around, it will not heal correctly."

"I can move fine you old sot!" I scream.

"BLEY! What did I tell you?" Jack says infuriated.

"Not to call him an old COOT. I called him an old SOT. Doesn't count. Sorry Jacky-Boy."

"Sorry Doc. She doesn't mean it." Jack appologises to the doctor who stands and walks out of the room. As soon as the door shuts, Jack hisses at me through his teeth. "How could Spot even _stand_ you? You don't know when to keep your mouth shut! Your brother was _nothing_ like you! I'm starting to think that your not even who you say you are!"

With tears in my eyes, I whisper. "I'm sorry. He just makes me _nervous_. I don't trust men after my father."

"Obviously! I gotta go pay him extra thanks to you. Your wasting our money and time."

With that, he stomps out of the room and slams the door so hard that dust falls from the ceiling.

I was horrified. Jack always seemed to be there for me. as a brother but he never said anything of that sort. Can't I go anywhere without someone yelling at me? Hating me? Because I'm me?

(Jack POV)

I pay the doctor then suddenly feel bad about how I treated Bley. She was one of my best friend's sister. I march back up the stairs an hour later (to give her time to relax a bit) and open her door.

"Bley, I'm sorry. I didn't mean-" I stop there.

I'm not talking to anyone. The window is open

The room is empty.

~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~

(Spot POV)

"Stop! You can't go up there!" Jem's voice yells from downstairs. A muffled voice responds. "I don't give a damn that you wanna see Spot. He doesn't wanna see you. He's locked in his room."

"I don't CARE!" A high pitched voice screamed.

The handle rattles and I jump back. The door is thrown open and Bley storms in and slams it behind her.

"What are you _doing_ here?" I exclaim. "Jack's gonna kill you if he finds out! Jack's gonna kill ME if he finds out."

"I can't STAND MANHATTAN! He was all rules with me. No fun. I couldn't leave the bed unless I had to go to the bathroom! It was the worst month of my life! Spot I am not going back there you can't make me. I will make you make me stay if I have to." Her face is red. She spit out every word like poison.

"Why did you come to me? Aren't I just a chaser?" I spit back at her.

"You were the only person I trusted to know me as John. To treat me exactly as I did when I was him. I don't trust you, I just trust you enough to treat me like one of the guys, whether it's rough or kind."

I look at her skeptically. "Are you sure? I mean, a boy's life is rough."

"Do I look unsure? I am perfectly positive."

"I don't know…"

"Come on Spot." She steps close to me. "Don't turn on me now."

I take a breath.

"I don't turn on anyone." I run a hand through her long blonde hair. "Ever."

(Bley POV)

I reclaimed my spot on the cot on the floor. It wasn't the most comfortable thing, considering that I wasn't completely healed, but I didn't want to take Spot's bed. A few minutes after the lights went out, Spot speaks, breaking the silence.

"Why did you become a Newsie? What did your father do?"

"That's two questions." I say. "But, I guess I'll answer two this one time." Spot climbs out of his bed and takes my hands and sits back down leading me to the foot of the bed.

"Go ahead. I'll listen. Just don't lie this time. You won't lie about yourself and I won't lie about myself."

I take a deep breath. "This might be a long story."

"We have all night." he says and squeezes my hand.

"Well, when I was little," I start and pull the scrapbook out of my bag and flip to the pages with the pictures of my family. "We all were pretty happy. Not poor, not rich. My father worked at Sheepshead Races. That's how John, my brother, met Racetrack. He begged my father and mother to be a Newsie. It was all so he could spend time with Race. Race," I sniff away a tear "was his best friend. Sure he was close to Jack and Kid Blink, but never as close as him and Race. He used to bring Race home for dinner." I laugh a little "I had the hugest crush on him when I was little. He was like a brother to me." I stop and look up to see Spot's expression still the same. "Then, everything started to change. My brother died in a fist fight in an alley. The house was never the same after that. Especially since my mother had already died. She was an amazing person. All that was left of the happy family was just me and my father. He started drinking. It was scary. He scared me when he came home, pockets empty and his head on a little more crooked every night. He started with hitting. Then screaming and hitting. Then that last time I saw him, it was worse. He was dead drunk that night. He always loved me, drunk or not. He just had a temper. In the morning I woke and found that he was gone. Just… gone." It took all my concentration to not burst into tears. "That's when I decided that I had to become a Newsie.

"So you're a runner?"

I nod. "I was looking for Manhattan, looking for Racetrack Higgins. That's when the Delancys cornered me in an alley and I slipped away and ran… into Spot Conlon. Into you." He smiles slightly and I am still on the verge of crying. "Then Race found me! And I thought everything would be fine. But things happened. And it sure isn't a fine life carrying the banner."

"I'm so sorry about your family. I-I… I'm sorry." His words were surprising to me. And they made the dam that was holding back tears break. "Are you okay?" he asks and takes the book from my lap and puts it on the floor.

"No," sniff "I'm okay. Just, the story took a lot out of me." A sob surprisingly tumbles out of my lips.

"No, your not okay." He says and pulls me next to him and _hugs me_. I should have pushed away. It was happening all over again in my mind. But instead I buried my face in his chest and cried. His hands stroke my head and he whispers softly in a language I do not recognize.

Over and over again "Cailín álainn."

I cry until I physically cannot cry anymore. "Spot?" I say into his shirt.

"Yah?"

"I trust you now."

"You do?"

I nod, or try to because with my face in his chest, my movements are restricted.

He pushes me away slightly and leans down.

And he does the thing I have been unintentionally wishing for, for over four weeks. He kisses me. His lips were soft and hesitant at first but when I returned the kiss, they became surer and stronger.

When we separate, I regret kissing back almost instantly. But I wouldn't take it back for anything. Not even all of Brooklyn.

"Wow." Spot murmurs.

"Wow." I answer back breathless.

"Yah, wow." says a voice from the now open doorway.

**Hey all! 20 comments is like Christmas in July… literally! Thanks for everything Readers and yes, I chose the name Runner. SORRY! at first I thought it was in a PM but... it was actually Rellimmes. The one i got in the PM was Racer but it was too close to Race's name. Anyhoo, thanks for all the views and I hope I can get more from you awesome ppl!**

**=Quirk=**

** It means I is now a kitty. =^o.o^= ~Mew~ **


	9. The Truth is revealed

**Okay, I had spelled "Jem" as "Gem" in chapter 1. Ignore that. It is now Jem. **

**MY BIRTHDAY WAS THE 8th!**

**YAY!**

**I changed a little at the _VERY END_.**

(Spot POV)

I breathed out a breath of relief. It was only Jem.

"The lovely Bley Rhames has taken a liking to Fido here." he says with an impish grin.

"How do you know my name?" she asks.

"I read fast." he says and tosses her the book.

She looks like she could possably stab herself if she got the chance so I hold her tight. "I knew I shouldn't have left that bag downstairs." She curses under her breath. Truthfully, I have never heard such a loud and dirty mouth on a girl before.

"_Fido?" _

"Chill Spotty Boy, I don't plan on telling no one." I let out a breath.

"Jem. If you want something, you _know _we have nothing." Bley says quietly.

Jem laughs. "I don't wan't nuthin sweetheart. At least nuthin material."

I look at him curiously. "Wait… what?"

Jem looks from me to Bley, to me, then back to Bley again. "I want the truth. Your story Bley."

Bley paled.

"I want you out of the room when she does so. So she doesn't have to hide anything from her dear boyfriend." he adds in and points at me. Boyfriend? What is he talking about?

"No, I don't think s-" I start.

"Fine. Whatever. Just don't tell." Bley cries.

"I don't plan on telling. I just want to know whats going on. Secrets are a love of mine as long as I'm in on them."

"Spot. Go." She says while examining the floor.

"No!" I protest. She shoots a glare at me.

"Now. Spot. Now." I slowly sink out of the room and catch a glimpse of Jem's satisfied smirk. My smirk.

(Bley POV)

"What do you want to know?" I ask quietly.

Jem looks at me with an intensity that makes me squirm in my seat on the bed. "First, I want you to know that you can trust me. I will not turn on you no matter the situation. No matter what, understand?" His face looked so familiar and it bothered me that I couldn't place it in my mind.

I nod my head. Although I did not believe him, I still felt safer with him than I did Jack or even Racetrack.

"Secondly, what happened exactly with your brother?" Determined to tell him all I wanted him to know about my brother as soon as posable, I started.

"He got killed in an alley and-"

"Do _not lie to me. _Bley. Tell me the truth." That was the first time in the longest time that someone called me out on my lying.

"I don't understand. I wasn't lying." I said, denying it.

"They never found his body." Jem said quietly.

"Sorry?" I ask in an even smaller squeak.

Jem's eyes would not meet mine. His face was scarred. Badly. From one thing or another.

"The police never found the body. He went missing. You never found him."

"I'm not lying." I say with a hard look. "That is not true. Where would you hear such a ludicrous thing?"

"You."

"Pardon?" I say as if surprised.

"You talk in your sleep."

"Then why wouldn't Spot have said anything?"

"The boy sleeps like the dead."

"Why were you watching me sleep?" I retort.

"I could hear you when I was patrolling the house one night and decided to listen in for more." he leans his elbows on his knees and looks in my eyes intently.

"You really have thought of every possible situation and answer here, haven't you?"

"A good man has to plan." He says with a goofy grin.

I almost laugh.

"Why were you going through my bag?" I ask more casually. I was unwillingly loosening up around this boy.

"I thought I might as well just bring it up to you. I picked it up and it fell out."

"The bag was closed." I say with mock skepticism. The truth is, I was really curious what his next answer would be.

"Well. It opened when I picked it up wrong. The clasp was old and it came undone."

"How much of the information in the book was new?"

"None of it. I actually remember that pape from years ago. I also figured out much from just your sleep talking. And of course, I knew you were a girl the second you came in to the light that night Spot picked you up."

"Oh, yeah. Right. Sorry for stepping on your foot."

"Tah, It's fine. It's gotta happen once or twice. Sorry I said what I did. I didn't see you were a girl." He met my sincerity with a voice just as equally sincere.

"What made it so obvious that I was a girl?"

That's when he hesitated. "You… just didn't seem like a boy at all. Your face and eyes look all… wrong."

"Aw, gee thanks Jem." I say dramatically placing both hands over my heart. "I feel so loved."

"You are." Jem says. "By more than one."

I laugh. "What do you mean?"

"Race. And Spot. Well gosh, Race'd do anythin for you."

"Really? I mean, Race an' I are just friends." I say, more to myself than to him.

"Really, and that's not what he thinks. I don't think that's what you think either." Jem says quieter.

"What? That's ridiculous." I say again to myself.

Sigh, "Spot seems to like you more than his goil last week."

"Last week? When I was in Manhattan?" I ask, a little nervous. "What do you mean a girl?"

Jem seemed to only then realize that he had slipped. "Um. Nuthin." He replies quickly.

"Too quick. Spot had another girl." I state, rather than ask.

Jem says nothing.

"And this is normal."

Jem remains silent.

"Answer me! Didn't think _this_ through didja?" I yell at him and he winces.

"I'm sorry Bley. I shouldn't have said anything at all."

And without another word, Jem gets up and leaves. "Dammit!" I screech and throw the closest thing I could reach at the door.

That would be a shoe.

I run up to the door and lock it. The handle rattles. "Bley? You in there? Open up." Spot calls.

"I need a little while, Spot." I say, my voice weak.

"Okay. Take your time." How could someone be so sweet one minute and then rip your heart out the next? I guess that's just Spot.

"Thank you Spot." my voice sounds strangled, lifeless.

I realize he isn't there any more.

I climb out the window and maneuver through the crowds back to Manhattan. When I step into the little room where I had been the past 4 weeks, Race is there. My bag remained at the Brooklyn Lodging house and I knew that Spot would eventually have to return it. Or hopefully Jem would.

I look into Racetrack's eyes, solemn and red. I waltz up throw my arms around him and sob. He was startled for a few seconds before he squeezed me tight.

"It's okay Bley." he whispered. "Spot's like that."

"But it hurts." I whimper.

Race kisses the side of my head and sits with me on the bed. "I know."


End file.
